THE NEW YORKER baseball-players in the world adorned the molding around the door. I N the midst of this prodigy of a room stood our captain of all the industries, mopping a very wet brow. It was hot in the room and he was wearing the heavy midwinter sweater with his school letter on it. "Gee, isn't it swell!" And there was such pride bursting from him that it practically shimmered beneath my hand on his shoulder. "It is marvellous. I don't see how you ever did it," I stated quite truth- fully. -GERTRUDE CARVER . ON A CEI\. T AIN TYPE OF YULE TIDE FICTION If I could only find a Christmas story \Vherein Giuseppe the W op, or Tim the Dude, Both gentlemen of reputation gory, And darkly stained with moral turpi- tu de, Would not be stricken down with deep contrition Because their guileless prey had eyes of blue, But carry out the dastardly commission And really see the bloody business through! When Nick the Rat sneaks slyly up th e stairs, A gat or a stiletto in his hand, And comes upon his victim unawares, I know it won't turn out the way he planned! He'll be invited in to trim the tree, And find the owner is his long-lost brother- Or (alternate device) decide that he Can't croak the dame because she looks like Mother! Alas for Gyp the Blood on Christmas Eve- The Yuletide spirit gets him, sure as fate! Behold the tough guy, snivelling up his sleeve, Vowing to quit the racket and go straight! Shades of all Gangdom! In my voice a sob, I pray you, Scribes, amend the situa- tion- Just once, let Tony finish up the job; Before in utter wrath and desperation 79 ......... . .... . ::: .. .. . .;.2 .: t$4'S \ I .: .:: r. ::.:::.'- - "'f;; j .. .. , '- J ? . Þ '? 'I .. . I ,,\"" ":"=y:: ' r :::::a ' ':i ""t J . 1 d' :: ,. .'i ," ""'j :/,,1! \ "4., .,...t".,J ...c:.... .IN;l ,i' ; . .,/ ;: ':. :..:: ...' ." :, ...<: ?: ;: . . -:," ')0 -'-"'" .,/' :':.:: ;::.,/'.. .fo. . .: '::: .: .:.==;:.. '< ":,",..lif$:j/ . . .. . .': ' . ..:.' -,. ... ..- . ..::::,'. 't.... -- :f.... \0.... ;. . . / l*- $"i . . u : Jo : . :=i-:.. J i , . t-::,:> '- , :K . .::.... : :';/;. .:::. ::;:;:;:: )c"'\:.' ':: <" = 5 5 .,.,.,.... ..,:::::: "*::\: :: ....:.:.:::-:::;:;..: :::%:;:: } ..:.:....:...: , Oì.t + '';' ".. + + 11lUFFLES TO' 1ÌiFi / ) A co RPS of under-chefs has helped our M. Rondepierre build this fabulous dish. One took from a bed of crushed ice a beautifully pink, cold salmon. A second contrived a golden coat out of mayonnaise. Another carved and \\t'hittled daintily transparent roses out of suet. . . a fourth a pigeon. Still another traced, humorously, a marine view on the fish's side. . . All through the night they were nimbly, patiently at it. Sometime near dawn they stood in a circle around their maestro and watched him drop the last brilliant cherry tomato into place. Then quickly \\t'as the creature conveyed to an ice chamber, there to await your arrival in our Dining Room. Had it been your pleasure to ask for a two-minute egg, your order would have been filled at less trouble, but with identical care. For it is our constant aim to have you leave our hostelry with a little happier feeling than when you came to us. From truffles to trifles-we are yours to command. . THE ROOSEVELT I seize an automatic from the shelf And foully murder somebody myself! -SARA HENDERSON HAY MADISON AVENUE AT 45TH STREET, N.Y. Edward Clinton Fogg, Managing Director